Level 16 Veilspun
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Ichor Nymph
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Energy: 0/50
This dragon’s natural inborn element is Shadow.
Female Veilspun
This dragon is an ancient breed.
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Personal Style

Ancient dragons cannot wear apparel.


Accent: vienna


Scene: Shadowbinder's Domain


0.96 m
1.21 m
1.27 kg


Primary Gene
Starmap (Veilspun)
Starmap (Veilspun)
Secondary Gene
Constellation (Veilspun)
Constellation (Veilspun)
Tertiary Gene
Thorns (Veilspun)
Thorns (Veilspun)


Oct 21, 2019
(4 years)



Eye Type

Special Eye Type
Level 16 Veilspun
EXP: 33663 / 71966




  • none


______FLYbcKI.png » A N D RO M E D A «
Shal'anir's Lament
Queen of a Fallen Empire

"Heed my word well, strangers from beyond the veil.
Shal'anir is no more. The empire you seek has fallen, and the history carried within will, too, be lost.
None will step foot upon her cursed lands, and she will be left to die in the sanctuary of peace which she does not deserve.
So long as I, Andromeda, the new queen of Shal'anir, draw breath, I will not allow the tree to touch another soul.
Come closer, and death will be most favourable to the fate that awaits you."

The voice to ward away those who wander, her mournful melancholy carried in ancient lullabies warning of death and misfortune as she calls out to the ones forever lost, and lays bare the grief she will never allow to heal; Andromeda, once, should have been queen of Shal’anir.

She was the firstborn daughter of the Pale Empress', and, with her mother's royal blood flowing through her veins, all that her home ever asked of her was that she drew breath. Every want, every whimsical desire, was graciously gifted to the young dragoness if she so much as uttered a word. Her mother ensured she did not grow to be ungrateful of her power, teaching Andromeda well the importance of humility and kindness. As she grew older still, the young pearlcatcher began to make a name for herself, and gathered support of her fellow dragons, but support for the crown meant nothing when the very foundations began to crumble, and Andromeda’s reign ended before it even began.

In Shal'anir's place now stands only the skeletal remains of a civilisation torn asunder. Huge brambles enough to impale even the largest of dragons have burst up from beneath, crawling with wicked thorns up and around the trunk of the great tree and tearing into silver bark ragged wounds that will never heal. Silver ichor, her very lifeblood, runs down as a thousand rivers like tears down pale cheeks, and, higher up towards the canopy, there are entire pieces of her trunk missing - blown out from within by the turbulent forces Shal'anir gave her life to contain. The beautiful shades of penumbra and silver once present have now blanched to ash and dust, lifeless and barren, and the heavy foliage the shaded behemoth wore as her crown now lays around her as shattered glass upon the broken marble floor.




With roots so tightly bound to the very foundations of the earth, Shal'anir's greatest strength was, too, her greatest weakness. The Shade, laying dormant within the deepest, darkest shadows of the shaded behemoth, awoke as she did, and began to fester unchecked. While the tree outwardly looked healthy, inside she began to suffer terribly, and the lowest boughs quickly gave way to the infestation. Those who travelled down below were given privy to the dangers they lurked, but those were also the ones who did not return. When the first few leaves began to fall, it was already too late. The sickness had already spread unchecked for far too long, and the empress, Vesper, succumbed to the infestation - falling into a deep, troubled sleep filled with nightmares of anguish that saw her cry out so pitifully in fear.

With their empress presumably lost, it was only a matter of time. Other dragons, those most closely linked with the tree, began to fall. Their prized alchemist, his entire body forged of silver ichor in an attempt to save himself from his own disease, was the first to be lost. One death turned into two, two became three, and, by the seventh moon, that number had doubled. All around her, Shal'anir's children began to wither and decay. Mothers watched as their children suffered, fathers were forced to bury their loved ones, and lifelong friends spoke their final goodbyes.

Andromeda had been destined to be queen, to follow in her mother's footsteps in ruling Shal'anir as her empress and chosen mouthpiece. Yet, the young dragoness had never proven herself; she knew she was not worthy of the title, and that her followers would only see her as a false queen who would, inevitably, lead them all to ruin. She could never hope to surmount the legacy her mother had fought so desperately to secure for her children, and, as her mother wasted away and the denizens of Shal'anir perished, Andromeda was expected to simply watch and wait.

A queen did not wait for her kingdom to fall.

Andromeda's sacrifice, penultimately, saved them all. When the Shade rose to meet them, it was her who stepped forward to take the final blow. She gathered all the energy she could, calling out to Shal'anir for one final blessing to see her clan survive, and, with no will or hope beyond her own determination to not let her followers die in vain, the shaded behemoth answered with her own rallying cry. She gave what little she had left to Andromeda, filling her body with a primal magic never meant to be harnessed, and, by her hand alone, the Shade was pushed back. Andromeda gave her everything in the spells she weaved, her body screaming at her to give in as muscle and bone were torn asunder by the energies she wielded, but never once did she falter. With memories of her fallen brother and sister, of all the dragons who gave their lives to keep her safe, Andromeda forced the Shade away from every fibre of Shal'anir's being. Her own cries were joined by the spirits of her loved ones, urging her on even if it meant her very end, and, when all was done, and a chilling silence fell over the shaded behemoth, the pearlcatcher was no more.

The shaded behemoth’s final gift to Andromeda is the harrowing form she now wears; a mockery of the light’s embrace, and a far cry from whom she had once been. Her very existence serves as a memoir to the ones who were lost to the Shade. Huge thorns of Andromeda's design now surround the entire base of the tree, spiralling up into her canopy and digging deep so that none may find their way through, and all activity beneath the behemoth has ground to a halt. Even Shal'anir's song has fallen silent, and it is instead another melody that might be heard to call out to those who dare to listen - warding curious travellers away so they do not suffer the same fate as she.

Shal'anir had asked of her nothing, and she had given everything. Now, Andromeda seeks to stop the cycle that has raged on for millenia, and finally end the shaded tyrant’s reign as it did her own.




» Memories Lost «

Andromeda sat alone in the shadows, hidden from view beneath the great stained glass mural that rose up and over the main hall of Shal’anir. Just ahead of her she could see her mother’s pedestal; pristine alabaster against the shadows that lingered just out of reach around it and cast in the perpetual moonlight that somehow filtered beneath the earth and out through the stained glass. Her mother stood upon that very pedestal, speaking to the many faces Andromeda knew where there but could not see. The moonlight seemed to make Vesper glow from within as she spoke, raising a wing and gesturing behind her, and the low light fractured and reflected off of wings that looked like the purest quartz. Andromeda couldn’t quite hear what her mother was saying, but she knew what was coming. With every meeting Vesper called, Andromeda had to be in attendance. She was of age now and she knew what was expected of her. Yet, how could she possibly compare to her mother?

“You’re nervous, Annie, that’s not like you,” came a soft whisper from the shadows beside her. Andromeda flicked an ear back towards the source of the voice but made no other indication that she’d been taken by surprise. She knew that voice too well, and, as the shadows themselves seemed to gather to form a shape so like her but so different, she turned to face the source.

Orion. The slender skydancer sat beside her, although she hadn’t heard him approach, with his paws neatly tucked together and wings pinned to his sides. Dressed regally for one befitting of his status, Andromeda sometimes envied her twin on account of being ruled out from ever having the role of ruler put upon him. Although his head was raised high, listening attentively to their mother give her speech, Orion’s shadowy gaze was focused solely on his sister, as if he knew exactly what she was thinking. “This is your clan as much as it is mother’s now.”

“It’s different this time.” Andromeda looked back to the great hall, eyes swimming with emotion and claws gripping the stone beneath her paws. “Can’t you feel it, Orion?”

“Of course I can,” the skydancer returned, his focus unwaning. “But I believe the change is in you as much as it is them. You’re ready.”

“Am I?” Andromeda’s gaze was focused on her mother as she tried so hard to memorise exactly what words she used, how she spoke, and how she moved. Vesper was a queen before her subjects. Andromeda felt like a bumbling hatchling before her shaming ancestors whenever she tried. “I’m nothing like mother, Orion. I cannot possibly hope to match her.”

Her brother then scoffed. Light, but a definite scoff. Andromeda’s head whipped around to growl at him, but when their eyes met, she could see he was smiling. The expression should have angered her, but something else lingered beneath the surface that caught her eye.

“What?” She demanded, tone rising just enough for it to come across as such, but not so much the dragons just out of earshot could hear her. “If you think you know what you’re doing, you go out there and speak to them!”

The skydancer’s smile only grew. “I’m sure you’d like that, wouldn’t you, Annie? You know that that’s not my job, even if I wanted it to be.” His smile then dropped as he turned to face their mother again, who, despite being focused on the dragons before her, was listening to the sound of her two children behind her just as well. “No, you’re not like mother. Yet, you were never meant to be.”

As Andromeda opened her mouth to ask what Orion meant, she felt her mother’s gaze upon her. Vesper stood with her head held high, gesturing to the space beside her for Andromeda to stand with a faint smile reflecting in her eyes. She was waiting. They were all waiting. The young pearlcatcher could only imagine the sight she would see. Council members, warriors, mages, and even her own sister looking up at her.

The thought made her stomach turn. Andromeda wanted to back down and hide away in the shadows, but before she could have done so, she felt a light nudge on her shoulder. Orion smiled down at her, expression patient but message clear. He’d said all he needed to say, and he had the utmost faith in her, but she wasn’t certain she could deliver on that good faith.

“Go now,” he then whispered, “your subjects are waiting for you.”

Andromeda knew when it was time to get up. Uncertain, but determined, Andromeda stood and began to walk towards her mother. With each step on the pedestal beneath her paws her heartbeat echoed in her ears, but so did the words Orion had spoken to her. Beside her mother, Andromeda stood. This time, however, she would not stand as her mirror. Andromeda would instead stand as her equal.

Out unto the crowds Andromeda looked. Staring right back were the same dragons she had grown up with. Council members, old and new, were expressionless. The guards, as stoic as always, watched with pride in their eyes as the one they’d helped raise now stood upon the pedestal she’d looked up to as a hatchling. The paragons, elected by her mother, were a sea of mixed faces. Some looked to her with determination, willing her on. Some watched with apprehension, uncertain that their trust could be placed in one so young to guide their actions. A few watched in silent challenge, chins tilted upwards and eyes scathing. Before, those expressions would have frightened her. Now, with Orion’s words echoing in her heart as well as her ears, Andromeda rose to their challenge.

The young pearlcatcher took another couple steps forward ahead of her mother, raising her head even further and, in one swift movement, spread her wings out to the sides to catch the moonlight behind her. Through her wings the moonlight now filtered, and she cast all within that sacred hall in her own light; not her mother’s.

For a moment, the crowd was still. No one said a word. No one even seemed to breathe. Yet, Andromeda remained still in that position unwavering and, as she watched, the tide waned.

As one the crowd moved. Heads bowed, bodies moved low to the ground, and eyes shut out of respect as those of Shal’anir bowed down to their future empress. Weapon hilts were gripped, wings hung down, and soft murmurings of acceptance went around the crowd like a mantra. For Andromeda, it was almost otherworldly. She had said nothing. She had done nothing. Yett, each and every one of them had presented themselves to her as subjects before their queen. When Andromeda turned to look over her shoulder at her mother, she saw that even Vesper had bowed down to her daughter, and looked up at her with eyes that sparkled with pride and a smile on her lips. In the shadows, Orion watched with pride, and Andromeda realised that this was exactly what he’d meant. She wasn’t her mother’s mirror image. She was never meant to be her mother’s mirror image.

Andromeda was meant to be queen.

» notes «
- Uses the power of the stars above Shal'anir to draw her power - when she hatched, one specific star that wasn't there before appeared, which is where dragons believe she draws her power from
- The size of a small imperial
- Will kill any trespassers that find their way into Shal'anir and is near impossible to reason with after the death of her most of her family
- Is the dragon/voice Lady Esmeralda often dreams of and the two have some sort of alliance?

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Exalting Andromeda to the service of the Shadowbinder will remove them from your lair forever. They will leave behind a small sum of riches that they have accumulated. This action is irreversible.

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